Why am I here?
by Dementeris
Summary: Why am I here? To be honest, Shoto has never considered himself as a big thinker… Loosing hours to think about silly stuff and ending up babbling about the metaphysical consequences of eating a miso soup rather than a mushrooms-omelette... No thanks. But this question, this one damned question refused to leave him…


It was one of these snowy holiday's late mornings. The sky was like a tropical ocean without any foam, a light blue only pierced by a too bright sun. The air was cold and, on top of that, the wind wasn't helping the poor early risers to find some warmth. As he was struggling to make his way through deaf joggers and blind walkers, Shoto allowed his mind to wander around the over-decorated shop windows. Yellow, green red, sometimes silver and gold : so many colours which should never have been mixed together if you want his opinion. Suddenly, and while he was dodging an umpteenth lady, her arms full of heavy boxes decorated with ribbons and stickers, something caught his eyes.

_Why am I here ?_

To be honest, Shoto has never considered himself as a big thinker… Of course he was one of the most talented when it came to battle strategies, special attacks, plan analyses, and so forth; but loosing hours to think about silly stuff and ending up babbling about the metaphysical consequences of eating a miso soup rather than a mushrooms-omelette (like a certain mop of green hair he knew)… No thanks. But this question, this one damned question refused to leave him…

_Why am I here ?_

In front of him was an All Might figurine in all its splendour : tall and muscular, with his fetish costume and his plastic smile… Hey : don't judge him like that ! He was talking about the material ! Of course he wouldn't allow him to say such a thing ! In his backpack, he could feel it. Heavy. After all, the man was his-

"Waaaaaah ! I can't believe it ! It's the last one and they have it !"

Shoto looks down at his side to meet a little bobble hat, agitated by a deep fascination for the toy. It wasn't possible to be closer to that pane than this kid, whose frantic breath was making a large mark of condensation. Still, the stars in his eyes seemed to be able to stay glued to his desires' object.

_Is this some kind of Quirk ?_

"Isn't he incredible ?! Well – well !?"

_Hum …?_

"Hey ! Mister – mister ! Are'ya deaf or what ? Don't you think he's cool ?!"

Shoto looked around briefly. After a quick check, his first assumption appeared to be correct : the kid was speaking to him. Were his parents nearby ? Has he been left alone in such a dense crowd ? Did someone tell him to not talk with strangers like that ?

_According to what I can see… No. Yes. And…. No._

_Greeeaaaat…_

What should he do now ? He couldn't let him by himself, it wasn't responsible and he could already hear Aizawa's sermon for not having been a good hero apprentice. The New Year's Day on top of that ! Well, answering honestly wasn't a so bad idea. And also the only one he was enough familiar with to risk it :

"Yes he is." Simple but always effective.

"I know, right ?! He's so strong and sooooo class ! Later, I want to be just like him ! With all his mighty – mighty powers !

\- So… You're quite a fan, huh ?

\- Of course I am ! I'm the first All Might's fan on the entire planet !

\- I can see that." A small smile cracked his face.

_Ha ! Sorry to disagree with you, little one, but I can assure you that you certainly aren't… _

_Because I personally know All Might's best fan. I think we can say he is my… Friend ?_

That's right, only a friend would have invited the strange cold comrade he was to celebrate the beginning of the New Year. Speaking about that, wasn't he supposed to arrive a bit earlier ? He remembered Midoriya sending him a phone call, full of incomprehensible excuses for calling at 2:00 AM (does this boy ever sleep ?) and having organised this party without telling him sooner, but with the important informations nonetheless… Well, even if we excepted his second message in which he has clarified the address of their teacher : sometimes the green kid forgot he is the only one knowing where Sir Yagi was living.

_I should use this time we will spend together to test my hypothesis about him being his secret love chil-_

"Oh ! Tobi, here you are ! Do you just know how I and your mother were scared ?! You really have to stop using your chameleon quirk to disappear like that : we already talked about that, didn't we ?"

The alarmed voice forced Shoto out of his contemplation of the shop's insides. A short man with a bowler hat and iridescent scales has run into them, already lecturing the poor kid, who has practically lost all his previous enthusiasm. At least it seemed that he wouldn't have to go seek after his parents.

What it appeared to be the fanboy's dad turned his globular eyes to the teenager :

"Thank you very much for having taking care of my son while he was out of our sight ! I don't know how I can compens-

\- There's no need, mister, I've only done my job. Plus, he has been very calm.

\- Hum ? So you're an hero appren- …?" The man stopped, scanning Shoto's face. Then, as if some kind of illumination has touched him… "But you're Endeavour's child ! Oh please forgive my bad manners, I haven't recognised you without your uniform ! But we saw your performances at the Sport Festival : there is no doubt about from whom you've got this fighting spirit ! Please accept our apologies for this little mishap !

\- No problem.

\- Now, if you will excuse us, I still have to bring this little daredevil to his mom before she get a heart-attack. Thanks again for your precious help, and have a nice Happy New Year !"

And, as fast as they have come, they were gone, the boy named Tobi waving at him one last time before disappearing into the crowd. He was alone once again. For a reason or another, the air has become cooler.

_Endeavour's child_

_Do I have… no name ?_

In the distance, some bells echoed. A mechanic voice crackled in the commercial centre's loudspeakers, indicating it was now 11:00 AM, that the customers were able to go buy some food at- Adverts... Was it so late already ? He checked his phone's map and sighed when he saw how far he was still from his final destination. A glance to what was in his bag : the marble cake his sister has made for the occasion was intact, cautiously protected by an ice-box she created with her own power. And the most important… A soft tap on the secret pocket : it was here. Good.

Giving a last perplex sight to the hero's figurine, he left. He had another legend to meet. A mission to accomplish.

_Why am I here ?_

It came once again, and stronger than before, when he finally arrived to…

"You've reached your destination ~ " His too optimistic GPS' voice announced.

After having lost himself into a labyrinth of dark alleys and crooked lanes which he would have never imagined so near from the city-centre, Shoto was standing in front of… How could he describe that ?

It was an odd shack, some architectural fantasy born between occidental and oriental inspiration. A garden, with a young chestnut tree and wild flowers scattering it, was offering him a white chalk path towards a massive oak door. But the most surrealist part of the scene was lying in the grey blocks of flats surrounding it : the only light was coming from a square of sky, as if it has been cut in a blue paper craft to give some colours to the strange house in this sea of concrete.

"You've reached your –

\- I know, I know… System : mute and off !"

Damn it ! Why couldn't he just have spent the New Year's Eve with his sister Fuyumi and maybe some of his other siblings ? Like the false parade of "a happy family" she always tried to give each year. Humpf… He couldn't blame her for having try. It would have been less complicated, but would have still left him with bitterness… As always. It shouldn't have been like that…

_What should I do if they're not here ?_

_Why did Midoriya invite me in the first place ? We never had spent free time together before…_

_Will they like the cake ?_

_Will I have to play some board games ? I barely remembered the rules of the basic ones._

_And on top of that…_

_Why did all of this have to involve their teacher in the process ?_

On his back, the unnamed content began to slowly burn the back of his mind : what if he won't accept to… ?

_Enough ! Stop overthinking like that : you look like him ! Keep calm, breathe, it will be okay… _

_Nothing worse than you've already faced._

…

_.._

_._

Hum, all things considered, he would fight Stain and Shigaraki once again rather than going through what people called "social stuff"…

"Oh ! Todoroki, you arrived ! I was beginning to be worried that you wouldn't find us !"

Two green eyes with a brilliant smile appeared instead of the closed entrance. Izuku crossed the few meters between them, letting the frost fly at each bouncing step. But as soon as he reached him, a monstrous war cry shook the modest home.

"DEKU ! Don't let the f****** door open : it's cold as hell outside !"

So Bakugo was there… Charming.

"I-I'm sorry Kacchan, it w-won't –

\- Stop babbling your stupide excuses and come back inside you nerd ! And take half-and-half with you !

\- Hi. Nice apron Bakugo." He won a sharp look from the blond kid whose hands were covering with floor… As a part of his face.

"Shut the f*** up and come inside before the old man become sick !

\- Ah, y-you're right !

\- Of course I am ! So move your as*** out of this lawn and make yourselves useful !

\- We will gladly give you a hand for whatever you want Ka-

\- I didn't say I needed your help, loosers !"

And with that, the door was violently shutting. Even some snow fell from the roof, and both of them were left with the remains of an energetic roar, echoing a little longer between the high towers.

"So… You invited him too ?

\- Huh ? Oh yes !" The green boys woke up from this strange altercation. "Our respective parents decided it will be fun for them to celebrate the New Year "among adults", but, to be honest, it was most of Kacchan's mother's idea ! I think she's still mad at him after he almost burned the house down the last time…

\- Burn the… House ?

\- Yeah !" A shaky grin appeared on his face. "He was trying to light some candles on the dining table and…

\- Let me guess : he used his quirk instead of a lighter ?

\- How did you - ?

\- Intuition."

While they were wondering if Bakugo has already try something else than his blasters to solve a problem, Izuku was turning the door handle.

"Tell me Midoriya…

\- Yeah, what is it ?" His eyes were still locked on his own action.

"Why…" Inhaling cold air and acrid city's smoke. "Why am I here ?"

He stopped, the door mild open. He slowly turned his gaze to meet the different coloured eyes.

"Why are you here ?" He was… confused ? "That's because you're our friend, that's the reason why !"

_Hum… He's genuinely happy to see me, there's no doubt about that._

It warmed him a bit. However… It didn't seem to be the answer he was searching for.

"Huh, I see. " Deception. "Thanks for the invitation then.

\- You're very welcome ! You'll see : we've planed many games and All Might has become really good at cooking since he - "

Two strong arms pulled them inside, before slamming the door shut.

"DEKU !

\- So-sorry, I forgot !"

The question was still here, as was his burden… At least a lively evening was looming on the horizon !

If the house had an odd appearance from the outside, it was definitely a curiosity once you have crossed the doorstep.

Each room had his own atmosphere, his personal design with several trinkets, surely gifted to the retiree during his hundreds rescues and missions all around the world. There was aborigine paints in a narrow corridor, masks decorated with feathers and gold dust hang on the stairs' walls, antic sculptures and disparate books on the finely crafted shelves….

Everything seemed to have been put in hazard, as if their owner's mind was focused on something more important (and heroic) than cleaning what he barely had the time to visit. It was even clearer if you compared the american-style kitchen and the japanese living room with the rest… The first ones were simple, minimalistic, in one word : functional. Eating and sleeping, the ex-number one hero didn't need more.

_It didn't change the fact he was still forgetting to respect this prior needs…_

However… A certain harmony was coming from all these old memories. The pictures of friends and meetings which were smiling at him appeared so familiar.

It was warm, calm, fortifying…. It was

"Home.

\- Pardon me, Todoroki, did you say something ?" Midoriya has stopped his story about how he had convinced his so protective mother that he was enough old to have a party with some friends. Not without having given five different "emergencies-numbers" to a poor Yagi Toshinori, who has tried to reassure her he was still able to correctly use an antivenin in case of… In case of what exactly ?

"Nothing, I was just thinking out loud.

\- Oh ! I know that ! Did you know that verbalising our ideas was an excellent way to – have read a scientific article - about that –All Might – studying more – "

And… The situation was out of his control one more time. Normally, Bakugo or Ochako were the best when it came to tear the green kid away his monolog, each of them with their specific method. If crashing someone's skull could be considered as a legitimate strategy…

As for him ? He finished to set the table, excused himself to the boy lost in his thoughts, and went for a walk around the treasures of a life, a life of a hero.

Between two plants or objets d'art, he could find a medal for national services, there, a trochee for a world-record ("_has saved 135 civilians in less than one minute – 26__th__ October 20XX – Delhi, India_" he read) and here, a certificate dedicated to "The one and only Symbol of Peace". So many rewards, so much honour and glory…

_Al covered by dust…_

_It doesn't seem that this part of the decoration is the most well-maintained._

_He probably doesn't pay attention to that gold stuff._

A quick glance to the other house's nooks. They were a bit worn out but perfectly clean. So their teacher's retreat was just like him : caring and selfless. Flashy from the outside, secret from the inside.

And while he was detailing the interior's mysteries, he ended up by reaching the kitchen's threshold . Jingling of spoons and bowls with cheerful chatting could be heard, sometimes broken by grumpy noises. Amused rumbles were always following.

"Don't mind this little hitch, young Bakugo !" A swift sponge and towel. "I'm sure you'll manage to do it !

\- I know I will ! No doubt a fu-

\- Language…" Soft, deep… But a bit playful nonetheless.

"Yeah-yeah…" No resistance ? No arguing ? Impressive. They really should give the man another decoration for that masterstroke. "No doubt a dam- stupid piece of roots won't have the last word !

\- Good mentality my boy ! It's how every great heroes have been formed.

\- What ?! By cooking shit- simple ramens ?!

\- You know…" Mischief look." If you don't want to be considered like _cabbage_ by your _pears_, you'll have to _chilly_. Therefore, to _beet_ young Izuku one day and _ketchup_ the first place, learn to _turnip_ your self-control… Or your impulsiveness will _beetroot_ you one day…"

A solemn silence fell upon the place, only disturbed by the song of knifes and gas cooker's whistling. Two minutes before the explosive kid spat it out :

"That was awful…

\- Oh come on !" A sheepish grin could be too well imagined on the retiree's face. "I was sure it would _peas_ you-

\- Stop that !"

The two of them were already gone into another animated verbal jousting. Head and back resting against the wall, Shoto sighed : they were forming a very good dynamic. Mr. Yagi had a… special humour and his skills as a teacher were still…. Experimental ?

_But his hero's heart remains._

Midoriya and Bakugo were there to keep him smiling through his recovery. Of course everyone in 1-A Class was making efforts to help their dear idol (reminding him to eat, to sleep, to take care of himself… or do it by themselves when he is too stubborn to understand). However, the two boys seemed to have more impact on him. A sharp retort or pleading eyes were their best weapons when a catnap was necessary. Don't be afraid ! These were always "peaceful logical ruses"…

_And me ?... What did I do for - ?_

_Why am I here ?_

"Hey boys, dinner's ready !

\- Better move before it gets cold !"

Answers will wait…

Again.

They heartily ate, sitting around the coffee table and sharing everything they have cooked and brought for the occasion. Izuku has even spared some cushions for their teacher in order to ease his tired joints. Plus the man had spent all the day behind the stoves, and even if he assured that "this old man wasn't out-of-breath already", Shoto could clearly say that he was more tired than usual… And a bit distant at the same time. Was something bothering him ?

The meal was like the house, its owner and its guest : heterogeneous but wonderfully enjoyable. Traditional japanese dishes, pastries and cakes, some recipes Mister Yagi had brought from the States and his international trips, juices and an unbelievable amount of different tea sorts. There was something to suit all tastes ! From the steamed mouthfuls of vegetables served with thick soy sauce and sesame seeds, to the authentic canadian pancakes covered by small crystals of maple syrup, the scene was like one of these fairy tales' banquets.

"Damned ! These mini-things are freaking great !

\- Thank you very much, Kacchan ! These ones have been made by my mother, I'm sure she will be happy to hear your compliments !

\- She has to open a bakery : people would give money for that !

\- I agree with young Bakugo." He was still savouring the last crumb of his own. "Your mother has definitely a potential ! You should have a word with her. "

Shoto silently nodded. He must admit that the smooth cream, flavoured with yuzu and sprinkled by strawberries' curls, on top of a little piece of toasted gingerbread, had definitely its place behind a famous cake shop's front window. All this remarks tinted Izuku's cheeks with pink, as he was explaining how his mother had decided to learn cooking after his birth. Yet, the reason of this new sudden passion was not mentioned…

The marble cake realised by his sister had its success too. Even if he would say that yoghurt and cherry weren't the best choice… At least it enabled Bakugo to make the others laugh by his joke. Honestly, he didn't mind and even let a smile come upon his lips : for once he was compared to something else than his father ! It could be a cake or a damned flag, he won't complain at all.

After that, they played card games, listening quietly to each other's anecdotes and stories. Outside, the snow has begun to fall and the darkness of the night was cut by white petals of ice. The warmth and the joyful voices were keeping them from entering the precious place. For a moment, there was no more Villains' Alliance, no more danger or blood, no more doubts about the future… There were no more heroes, just them, three problem children and a man who has already seen too much in his short life, reunited by hazard, destiny, or whatever you want.

_That's not that bad…_

They have withdrawn in the guest room he had prepared for them, waiting the final count. It was a bit small for three teenagers, especially considering one's temperament, but each of them has been able to find space to put down his sleeping bag. Sir Yagi even gave them the right to build a pillow-fort, at Izuku's genuine request. Bakugo firstly thought (and said out loud) that he was too old to do such childish activities, before tearing a multicolour bedcover off Midoriya's hands, arguing that "he was doing all wrong !".

Shoto was sitting in the corner. He already had set up his bed place, since he didn't bring so much. Just some clothes, a toothbrush and his phone. He won't say a word about the All Might's cuddly toy he could glimpse in a certain yellow bag.

Behind the window, the moon was slowly ascending through dark clouds. His own backpack was resting at his sides. Its content was keeping his mind focus on the distant washing-up's clinking. He had imagined this instant all the week… No. Long before that. Since the day he had bought it with his mother. The day he was like this chameleon kid, trembling in front of the shop's shelves, his eyes full of desire, happiness…

_And hope._

He had to do it. After all he had done. Because of this nightmare his childhood had been. Could you even talk about a "childhood" ? He had to tell him, he had to explain his heart's content, just one time, even if he knew it could hurt him.

_It will hurt him._

But he had to know. He slowly opened the hidden pocket. A quick glance to the two other boys : they were fighting about the correct way to stabilize their fluffy construction. In a blink of an eye, he shifted it in his jacket's lining. He pushed himself up, pretended the need to give a phone call, and left the room.

He deserved to know…

_Why am I here ?_

He had finished to clean up the living, and was now relaxing on the couch, waiting for his student to return from their ambitious project. His far too long legs were stretched, a light blanket covering them, a steaming cup of tea resting near him. It was strange to think that this man, so fragile and sick at the first sight, could have braved the greatest offenders and horrors this world has created.

He took a step forward, but, at his own surprise, the retiree didn't notice him. He didn't talk to him, nor turn his head from the mesmerizing sight of the falling snow. Something was off : it wasn't like him at all.

Even during the chaos of their training sessions at Yuuei, he was able to tell when someone have lost an item during the battle ("Young ones, never forget to keep your keys and phones in your lockers !" He said each time. "Your apartments' closed door could be your worst enemy…"). He also caught Kirishima and Denki in their own trap the only (and last) time they had tried to play a joke on him. Today, they still didn't know how he had managed to notice them while three floors were separated them, with a noisy crowd of students, and a loud Present Mic at his sides. They should have thought twice before taking indelible ink…

He cleared his throat.

" Hum, Mister Yagi ?

\- Ah-eh ! What ?!"

The old man suddenly came back to the reality, almost spitting blood and a slight blush on his hollow cheeks. He wasn't expecting this interruption… And even less so from him apparently. Indeed, the smile he received was genuine as always, but a light of surprise (and was it anxiety ?) appeared in his gaze.

"Young Todoroki, how can I help you ?" Heroic manners were tough. "Is everything okay ? Are you enjoying your evening ?

\- I am. It's… Pretty cool."

Blank. Wasn't he supposed to have prepared his lines ? Of course he had planned all the issues, dreamt of all the possibilities and reactions ! In his hands, pressed against his back, an insidious poison slowly began to attack his nerves. Damn it ! Say something ! Why did his voice stay silent ? He should, had to, must-

"My boy…" The words were nothing more than a whisper. "Please, come take a sit, would you ?"

Lifting his head, Shoto met two piercing, yet full of kindness, blue eyes. The retiree was sitting straight. He patted the place at his sides, putting down his mug. The elemental-bender's mind was too cloudy to find his original plan again : he followed the invitation gesture.

"I can see something's troubling you. You can tell me your problems, you know ? It will stay between the two of us, I promise.

\- I have, indeed, what you would call a… No, that's not really a "problem", it's… It's…

\- Is it about me ?

\- Well…" That was it. The moment so long awaited. "Yes, it concerns you. I…

\- It was my fault."

He stopped dead on his track. What did he just say ?

The other one took a deep breath, shoulder tensed, avoiding the boy's questioning look once again.

"We… I should have apologised to you sooner. After all, it was all because of me and I have done nothing to prevent or fix it." What ? "You know, your father and I were quite good comrades back in the old days, we just had… Different perspectives of what a hero should be. And so take different paths to achieve our goals." So it was about this. "I have always been motivated by the ideal of a world where people would be smiling at any hours of the day and night, knowing they will be safe from any kind of danger." An unconscious grin surfaced. It faded quickly. "As for Enji, he was more attracted by the idea of power.

\- I know that… He's always-

\- Don't take it wrong ! That wasn't…" The tone was kind of strict. He sighed. "It wasn't like that when we were young. Before becoming Endeavour, your father was thinking about becoming more powerful, but as any hero once does. I believed that, in order to become stronger, a hero had to protect the ones in need. Enji was the opposite : to save people, you have to be strong.

\- For having seen the result, I don't think the second option is the best.

\- And for having lived the first one, I can tell you I'm no more sure of my own convictions…

\- What ?! But you're the Symbol of Peace !" He has almost shouted it. He couldn't tolerate that, especially coming from him. "You're…!

\- In which world does a Pillar live who isn't able to save the ones he could reach ?

\- I…" What was he trying to tell him ? " I don't understand, Sir.

\- I'm sorry, my boy, so sorry…"

His eyes turned back to him. Shoto felt his spine shiver. They were sad, reflecting unshed tears.

"I'm sorry I couldn't have saved you…"

The last part was barely audible, as if his voice had missed an octave. Shoto was sitting, silent : what should he do now ? Sir Yagi, All Might, his father's rival, his teacher, his… He was feeling guilty because of… Him ?

_No…_

_He's feeling responsible of what that id- bastard has done !_

_That's not fair ! It's not his fault !_

"I know it won't change what has already been done, but I want you to keep in mind that I will always be here if you need any-"

_TELL HIM !_

"Mister Yagi ! You're wrong all down the line !"

This, however, was a real heart's scream. So sincere, and maybe so violent, that it made the retiree look at him as if he was on the edge to freeze him from head to toe.

Gently, he handed him what he had kept hidden for so long : a fine, tiny package, wrapped in a mix of newspaper's pieces by red and gold ribbons. Still a bit chocked by his student's reaction, the blond man respectfully took it.

"Open it.

\- …. Young man, I-

\- Please, open it."

And so he did. In his hands was a book for kids, clearly worn by countless readings. "_Tactical Manual for Super-Mighty Heroes !_" had been printed in bold letters with his persona's fetish colours. Even a little doodle of the ex-number one hero had been added, along with the mention : "_Approved by All Might !_".

"I… I remember this… It's…

\- It's the first edition of your guide book for children who want to become pro-heroes. It contains all your tips and strategies to train, to save without risking our life and the others' one, learn how to cope with dangerous situations, and so on... But to be honest, my favourite part always has been the first chapter.

\- For… "For what are we, heroes, fighting for ?"…

\- Third paragraph, fifth line.

\- I… Why did you-

\- Read it please.

\- Hum, yes - Let's see…" He sought for the correct passage.

As for you, little reader, never fear to give a hand when you can, never forget to smile in front of your greatest enemies, never lose hope in your ability to make this world a better place to live !

And why should you keep your wonderful dreams ?

Because you are here !

"You were wrong… When you said you had done nothing to help me."

Shoto took back the precious memory, flipped some pages and pointed a corner. Here, even if the ink had a bit faded with time, there was his distinctive signature with an autograph : "_You're always stronger than you think ! Believe in you as I do : change your life ! ~ A.M_".

"My mother bought me that book when I was four. She always told me how exciting I was each time we were passing in front of the library, how relieved I was to see that there was still an available copy. One day, as we were going back to our home, I ran again to the shop window… But there wasn't any left this time.

\- So… How did you… ?

\- It was her who had bought the last one for me. She wanted to surprise me… It was a success." A smile appeared by evoking the past scene. "She told me to hide it from my father, and so I did : he would have burned it without a second thought if he had found it. However… Each time I was feeling bad or alone, and even more after my mom… Anyway. When the night came, I pulled a shoebox which was under my bed, and I read this book. Again and again, until I could remember it without any effort."

His teacher was trying to decipher his expression, incapable to understand where this discussion was going. Any word he was thinking of wasn't enough to qualify the pressure contracting his torso.

"So… Never dare to talk about yourself like that again. Not in front of anyone, not in front of our class, nor in front of me. You helped me to face my father and all the ordeals I went through, even if you weren't aware of it then. Each time I was reading those pages, you were at my sides, Sir. I- I will never thank you enough for that. And never did I blame you for anything. That's why I wanted to give it back to you today : to show you that even if it doesn't look like that, you have never failed your mission.

\- Todoroki, my b-

\- Shoto. You can call me Shoto.

\- Shoto…" His hands were quite trembling around the old pages, like they were afraid to ruin them. "I... I don't know what to say. I can't accept it…

\- Of course you can, sir ! I don't care if you can't turn into All Might anymore : you're my hero ! You even proved me so much more since you retired, as if the kid I once was has been finally able to meet the embodiment of his ideals ! Toshinori Yagi is my first hero !" It was too much for him who wasn't used to that kind of emotional states. Like back in the Sports' Festival… "I've always wondered why do I live : everywhere I go, I can feel my father's shadow upon mine." He broke. "_**Why am I here ?!**_ What is the purpose of my existence ?! Even if don't have the answer, you gave me the strength to deal with my father's ambitions, to stand up against my fear and ire ! I know you deserved something better than that, but you've done so much for me with this single lines, I- Hey… Sir ? Where are you going ?"

Toshinori has left the couch, now wandering into the living-room. He had his back turned to him, so Shoto couldn't see his face, nor his emotions. Suddenly, the old man seemed to find what he was searching for, his knees bending with some difficulties, and came back.

He opened the manual, and, near his own old plastic words, set down the black pen's quill. After some quiet minutes, he closed it and handed it back to its initial owner.

"My boy… It doesn't matter.

\- Huh ?"

And, as soon as the teenager touched the cover, he was wrapped into a warm hug. The book fell on the ground, revealing the same sentence, along with a new signature.

"Young one, if you still have something to learn from the old man I've become, please, listen carefully." He could feel his heartbeat through his too delicate ribcage. "It doesn't matter at all…

\- W-What ? What doesn't matter ?

\- Why you are here… There's my answer, my boy : it doesn't matter."

Shoto's mind went blank. Everything else except for those deep, soft and caring words had faded. It was just him, this comforting embrace and those silly three words.

Tears began to form at the corner of his eyes. He could feel slow circles patting his back, his hair being absent-mindedly ruffling. The man seemed to be used to this "crying-emergencies" : he didn't need any phone number in those cases.

"It doesn't matter why you are here…" His voice was nothing more than a whisper. "Do you know why, my boy ?

\- I-I don't k-know ? W-Why ?

\- It doesn't matter because the most important is that you are here." An happy rumbles echoed. "You are here and that's what matter, Shoto. That's why I chose this for my catchphrase and why it gives hope to the one who heard it.

\- It… It d-doesn't ma-mat-

\- You are here. Here, strong, brave, courageous little boy… You are here…" _Safe_. "And that's the most important, that's what matters… What matters to me."

And without even thinking about it, Shoto let some tears dropping on his cheeks. His whole body was shaking in calm frail arms holding him. He didn't notice the one who fell on his head, never will mention the shaky breath under his palms.

_It doesn't matter._

When the last five minutes arrived, Izuku and Bakugo erupted in the room, only to find their teacher and their friend facing each other in a game of chess, hot cups of tea on the table. The two of them raised their heads and greeted the new comers.

"Hey, half-and-half ! What did you take so long for a frea-" Dark look from black eye sockets. "Stupide phone call ?

\- Oh ! Fuyumi wanted to know how the party was going. So I had to explain it in details.

\- And what do you think of it ?!" Izuku was wearing a beaming smile.

" I think it's… Pretty cool."

He and Mister Yagi shared a knowing grin. The green boy gave a perplex glance to the other one, but he just shrugged his silent question off.

"Oh ! Look at the hour, young ones !

\- There's only ten second left !

\- Stop screaming, Deku ! Everyone can see it !

\- But Bakugo… You're the one who's yelling.

\- Shut up cherry-cake face !

\- Hey there – hey there, boys ! Calm down… Ready ? Five !

\- Four !

\- Three.

\- Two !

\- One and…

\- Happy New Year !"

Distantly, fireworks' explosions and loud bells' tingling could be heard as they pronounced the last words in unison.

It has been a strange beginning for a New Year, in an odd house, with curious guests and where surprising words have been exchanged…

_But it has happened at the end._

_And that's what matters the most…_

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_**~ The End ~**_

Page **20** sur **20**


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